Always You
by Seshat The Scribe
Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>Always You<strong>

**_by: Seshat_  
><strong>

**Chapter One**

"_**Heartache, heartache I just have so much  
>A simple love with a complex touch<br>There is nothing you can say or do  
>I called to let you know I'm through with you"<strong>_

_**-Maroon 5, Through With You**_

It was good to be home.

A grin of happiness spread across the face of Harry James Potter as he took pleasure in the simple truth of that statement. Home to the family he had made. Home to the friends he could count on. Home to Ginny, the woman he loved. He had everything he'd always wanted and never once took those blessings for granted.

This had been his first trip to the United States, to that lovely manic city of New York of which he had enjoyed quite surprisingly. In fact, other than his years at Hogwarts and the War, he hadn't spent any time out of England. There had been too many other things, more important things, to focus on to even consider something as benign as a vacation.

This trip hadn't truly been for pleasure, as he had gone over to the American Ministry in his capacity as an Auror to capture a criminal who tried to evade prosecution by fleeing across the pond. However, after chasing down the dark wizard who had murdered the families of three muggle-borns and sending him back for trial, he was invited to stay on for the remainder of the week.

Curious about the country he heard so much about, Harry agreed and booked another three days in his muggle hotel that provided a brilliant view of the heart of midtown Manhattan.

His guide was a right bloke by the name of Jason Paterson, a fellow Auror who was only a couple of years older than his twenty-one years. Jason had been with the Department for three years, joining after attending a muggle university for a degree in criminal justice. Harry was certain he wouldn't have closed his case as quickly as he had without Jason's assistance.

The blonde's personality was a mixture of the outspoken Seamus Finnegan and the wicked intelligence of Hermione Granger. A devastating combination for the ladies or so Harry had been told during their first night out at a small Japanese restaurant over warm sake.

The American magical community had followed the events of War, preparing just in case Voldemort wasn't stopped in Britain but the brutality of it couldn't be felt on the same level. That wasn't to say the country didn't have its own troubles. The very modern offices of their American counterpart had been a hotbed of activity for most of the duration of his stay.

So while Harry wasn't unknown, the media hadn't made him as central a figure as his own country had. It was nice to be measured by his actions and not a reputation.

Jason had convinced him that a visit to _'the Big Apple'_ wasn't complete without the grand tour and Harry had been treated to the whirlwind of activity through both the muggle and magical parts of the city.

Yes, he had thoroughly enjoyed himself but it was good to be home. Their home, Harry amended as he dropped the suitcase to the floor mentally promising to deal with it later. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was almost seven in the evening, which meant that his fiancée would most likely still be at her team practice.

As he walked through the foyer of Grimmauld place, he marveled at how much the dark and forbidding house had changed due to the combined efforts of his friends. He hadn't thought he would be able to live in the place that had been such a prison to his godfather but after a long discussion with Andromeda he decided he wanted to give his own godson a better memory of the Black heritage than Sirius had been left with.

And it had felt good to have a place he could truly call home for the first time in his life, not just a school whose memories would be forever bittersweet.

He pushed open the swinging doors of the kitchen to reveal the masterpiece Hermione had created for him. It looked like something out of an Old Italian country home with its rustic tile and brick oven but it was his favorite room in the house. A place where friends could come together over for a meal and good times and just be normal without the dark threats of prophecies or cursed artifacts hanging over their heads.

Typically if he was home, he picked up most of the cooking duties, as that was a talent Ginny hadn't inherited from Molly Weasley. Unfortunately, most evenings they dined on takeaway due to their hectic schedules. He had made it a practice for he and Gin to sit down to a Saturday meal together, often shared with his two best friends, then later they would go out for the evening to the cinema or such. With such busy lives, he didn't want their relationship to suffer.

He grabbed an ale from the ice box, taking several long pulls from the German brewed draft before shutting the door. The appearance of the appliance had been a cause for contention in the beginning, as Ginny had grown up in a strictly magical household and had a difficult time adjusting to anything different. He compromised on a great many things, such as those ridiculous pink curtains in their bedroom that he was still tempted to set aflame with a swift _incendio_ but considering he did most of the chores in the kitchen, she could adjust to their kitchen carrying the illusion of the muggle kitchen he had grown up in.

Take out containers and dirty plates were spread across the counter making him turn up his nose in disgust. When he wasn't home, Ginny could be a bit of a slob. "Is it really too much to ask to get rid of this shite?" He muttered, before flicking his wand toward the mess and watching for a few seconds as water and soap was added to the sink for a quick clean up. He wasn't as anal retentive as his Aunt Petunia regarding cleaning but neither did he like living in a sty.

The ale was drained, bottle chucked in the refuse and he decided against putting a sandwich together, his appetite destroyed by the messy room. Pausing, he tilted a head to the ceiling, noticing the rumble of music that shook the floor and obviously came from the upper levels.

"She's home?" He brightened, eager to see the woman he was planning to spend the rest of his life with and ignoring the small spike of speculation as to why she was home from Qudditch practice so soon.

He didn't think twice about the quick apparition to their bedroom but he did stop short at the sight that greeted him. There were burning candles everywhere. Those funny scented ones Ginny claimed no bedroom was complete without. These were a gaudy scarlet, filling the air with the smell of vanilla and roses, a stench he would always feel nauseated by if confronted with in the future.

The music came from the extensive wizarding wireless resting on a large bookcase opposite the bed. Thankfully it was a song he couldn't place and from that day forth would be banished to the furthest recesses of his mind.

None of this was as damaging as the sight of his fiancée's bare back as she eagerly rode Dean Thomas' dick in their bed.

"_Honey, I'm home."_

The dry comment had the occupants of their large bed scrambling for cover. "Harry!"

The dual squawks of surprise would have been amusing, if he wasn't busy resisting the urge to raise his wand and releasing the most painful Cruicatus curse he was capable of casting. For at that moment, exactly six weeks before their wedding, he hated Ginerva Weasley more than he had ever despised Voldemort.

"This isn't what it looks like," Thomas stuttered, his eyes wide with not a little fear as he shoved Ginny aside so he could wrap the sheets around his waist and roll out of the bed.

"That's rather interesting," Harry shrugged, eyes coming upon the empty bottle of wine and the elegant glasses etched with a fine scripted B on the bedside table. Bastards had no trouble raiding the wine cellar he had carefully put together or the heirloom Black crystal stemware.

"Because it looks like, mind you I could probably use a new prescription for my contacts after that eye scorching sight, but it definitely looked like you were fucking Ginny. In my house. In my bed," he finished in a low growl that had made more than one suspect nervous.

"I didn't realize you'd be home," Ginny blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth as if that could take the damning words away.

"I think that much was obvious but I believe the real question, Ginny dear, is how long you've been cheating behind my back and if I should have myself checked over by a healer for any suspicious fleas or ticks you might have picked up while slutting about like a bitch in heat."

The flush of embarrassment drained from her face, quickly turning to fury and a sneer to mar what he had once considered a beautiful face. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I thought it was quite obvious, didn't you Thomas?" He posed the question with wide eyed innocence to his former Gryffindor dorm mate who looked as if he would rather be anywhere but trapped in Harry Potter's bedroom. Perhaps, the man should have considered that before he climbed into bed with Ginny and not after.

"Look." Harry drew in a deep breath and released it in a rush, before rolling his neck in an attempt to release some of the tension building there. He was surprised he had held on to his temper for this long. All he knew was if he cut loose this dark rage he held in a tremulous grip, it would destroy his life and he hadn't survived a War and a Dark Lord to throw everything he achieved away for Ginny Weasley.

"I'm going to do you a favor. Why don't you pick up your things and leave my home now and I'll think about not separating you from that which makes you a man."

"Harry, look I'm sorry." Thomas spilled the rush of words as he began to gather his clothes. There was a brief scuttle for the sheet between him and Ginny before she finally gave in and stalked from the bed to snatch down the dressing gown hanging from the open wardrobe door.

"I'm sure I don't want your apology right now either." He folded his arms across his chest before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose trying to stop the growing ache behind his eyes. The man appariated out of the bedroom without sparing Ginny a backward glance. Again he might have laughed if this entire situation hadn't been at his expense.

When they were finally alone, Harry leaned against the front of the breakfront, watching Ginny and wondering just when things had gone so wrong between them and how he had missed the signs that it had.

"Harry I can explain." She sat down and looked at him through the mirror of her dressing table. When she turned to meet his gaze, her face was bleak and contrite. The picture of regret. "You see after practice this evening, some of the girls and I went down to a pub for a round of drinks. Dean was there, along with Seamus and some of the old crowd from Hogwarts. "

"Do you honestly think I care?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the revulsion in his voice. "I suppose I should be grateful I didn't walk in on an orgy."

"I would never do something so foul." She actually sounded appalled, as if she hadn't just been discovered fucking another man in their bed. "Harry, I love you. This was a horrible mistake, I know, but you have to forgive me."

"I don't think I could possibly express how disgusted those words just made me. You mistakenly brought another man home and you mistakenly removed your clothes, so you could mistakenly fuck him. Did I get that right because I don't want to leave out any of your _mistakes_?" Rage waved through him that he had to clench his fists against a burst of wild magic he hadn't performed since his teen years. Despite the attempt, the empty wine bottle shattered loudly making Ginny flinch. "You need to leave, Ginny."

"Leave? But Harry this is our home. Together."

"No, this is my home. Mine. You have no claims to it despite what you may believe to the contrary."

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she seemed to realize the pouty look of penitence wasn't going to win him over. "We're getting married in six weeks!"

"Married in six weeks? You keep telling yourself that. I'd sooner raise Snape from the dead and marry him before ever bonding myself to a faithless cow like you. Now, I would appreciate it if you collected your things and removed yourself from my home."

"Harry don't do this, please. This was the only time, I swear. We had been drinking and things got a little carried away."

"Carried away? _Carried away?_ Candles? Music? Wine? The food downstairs," he spat viciously, a wild arm gesturing to the atmosphere he had walked in on. "That doesn't sound carried away to me. That sounds fucking planned. That sounds like you taking advantage of the fact that I was in New York. That's what the hell it sounds like to me!"

He watched her swallow visibly at his anger. She stood to move to him but hastily changed her mind at his pointed glare. "You're right. I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry. I don't know why," she broke off and shrugged futilely as tears began to trail down her flushed face. "But don't destroy the home we're building together because I did something so terribly stupid."

How dare she throw the words he told her back in his face? The home they were building together? "I'm going to remember you're my best mate's little sister and not curse you for saying that to me. You have one hour to get your shite and get out. Don't be here when I return."

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><p><em><strong>StS<strong>_

* * *

><p>He wasn't surprised to find Hermione and Ron on the couch of his sitting room when he arrived home. He had taken a long mindless walk through the city and somehow an hour had turned into three. Yet even that hadn't calmed his temper. It was difficult to understand what he was more furious about. Granted on a really selfish man level, he was pissed about finding his woman fucking another man. Being cuckolded by the woman he loved was right up there with a bout of the clap. Or impotency. Then there were all the dreams he had been building around the life they would have after they married.<p>

Successful careers. Children.

Now the very thought of having sex with Ginny again made him feel like tossing the Thai take-out he had just managed to choke down twenty minutes ago.

And to top off a very pisser of an evening, he had to rehash the day's events with his two best friends. "'Mione, Ron." He closed the door behind him, ignoring their looks of discomfort and headed over to fireplace to sit. "What can I do for you?"

"What can you do for us! What the hell do you think you can do?"

"Harry," Hermione cut off Ron's angry rant, elbowing him in the side in the process. He had to admire how quickly she had trained the guy. Although his face flushed a bright beet red, Ron shut up just as she had wanted. "Ginny told us you broke off the engagement tonight when you got home from New York this afternoon."

"Did she?"

They both blinked at that. Probably expected the typical Harry Potter response, where he lost his temper and began shouting. He was beyond that first flash of rage. If he hadn't lost it with Ginny and Thomas, he certainly wasn't going to now.

"Yes," Hermione began again, tentatively. "What happened?"

"Oh, you don't know? She didn't tell you _why _I broke the engagement?"

"Only that you were upset," Hermione answered.

"And that you kicked her out and called her foul names!" Ron's shout rage wasn't to be held back any longer, as he pushed aside his wife's protests and shot to his feet. "What the hell is with that, mate? That's my sister! You have no business treating her that way."

"I'm impressed you held back that long," Harry muttered, before raking a hand through his hair. "I'm guessing, Ron, if you came home and found Hermione in bed with, oh let's just say Viktor Krum, that you would set out the tea service?"

"What?" Hermione had definitely been around her mother-in-law too much lately, for that shriek was classic Molly Weasley.

"Oh, yes. Dearest Ginerva was in bed with another man when I got home, that's what ended the engagement." He sneered without any remorse, "But I suppose, that's okay because she's your sister right?"

"She didn't!" Hermione looked positively scandalized. "Maybe you didn't see exactly what was going on Harry."

"Pretty difficult to mistake a tramp riding a bloke's dick in my bed, 'Mione," he drawled.

"Hey, now!"

"Hey what Ron?" He glared toward the man in question. "You're either here as Ginny's brother or my best friend. You can't be both because from where I'm sitting, I have the fucking right to be furious!"

"Perhaps we should try to calm down for a second, before someone says something they will regret." The smile on Hermione's face was tight and more than a bit desperate as she tried to regain control of the situation. She above all else knew how quickly her husband could fly into a temper and say something stupid.

"Molly of course is terribly upset, as was Arthur. Ginny's staying at the Burrow for now. We're all just shocked, Harry and want to know what happened. Ginny isn't saying anything, so you're the only one who can explain."

"Harry's the one-"

"The one who was betrayed, Ron? Is that what you were going to say," he shook his head incredulously, "Because I don't know what else you could possibly say. I went to the States for work and when I returned home, I found my fiancé in bed with another man. There is no defense for that! So I put her out! The relationship is over! Ginny is now free to have sex with Dean Thomas anytime it fits her fancy but she won't do it while claiming to be in love with me and in _my_ _house_!"

Ron flinched as the truth of his words hit the mark. He wanted to feel bad, really, because Ginny was his sister but it was rather difficult to manage when he was the one who had been made a fool of. "But you're getting married," he whined.

"I think we all know that's not ever happening." And just like that, the anger seemed to drain away leaving nothing but an empty sorrow in his belly.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Two<strong>_

_**"I'll bet it hurts so bad  
>To see the strength that I have shown<strong>_

_**When you answer the door pick up the phone**_  
><em><strong>You won't find me cause I'm not coming home"<strong>_

_**-Maroon 5, Not Coming Home**_

"Come on Teddy, you'll be late for school if you don't get a move on."

The voice that called out to the ten year old was a mixture of native England and transplanted New Yorker. It came from a harried Harry Potter who strode down the hall of the large Manhattan condo to the kitchen where his godson sat dawdling through his breakfast.

The room was nothing like the house back on Grimmauld. A deliberate move on his part. He had wanted no reminders of a woman best forgotten. This one was all modern steel, sleek and elegant and carefully warded against magic. The center island with its clutter and hanging pots served for their meals better than the large dining room reserved for guests or parties.

At the counter hunched over a plate was his son. Harry ran a quick check, shaking his head in reluctant indulgence of the denim cargo shorts with it's many pockets probably filled with something to lead the boy into mischief. The bright blue t-shirt was one from his varied collection and of course it matched his hair. Teddy was much taller than he had been at that age, all lanky arms and legs without the awkward. It always humbled him to see the mixture of Tonks and Remus Lupin in the quirky adolescent who had asked to be adopted so he could carry the same name as the man who took care of him.

Harry had felt guilty when the little boy had cautiously asked if he could call him Daddy.

Teddy came to live with him in New York after Andromeda's sudden death. He had only been living in the new city for two years when suddenly he was responsible for a grieving five year old. Needless to say the adjustment for them both had been long and oft times difficult. Eventually Teddy acclimated to the new country, made new friends at the school a colleague recommended and the nightmares about his Grandmother's death passed.

Then Teddy had asked that question. His first thought was to refuse. The title was reserved for Remus and just the idea seemed almost offensive considering the man who had loved his son so much but wasn't alive to raise him.

Then Harry remembered his own childhood, how he would have given almost anything to have a parent of his own like the other children in his class. To have a father who would always be there for him, to comfort him after a bad nightmare, a father had been a distant dream that never came true. How could he deny his godson something so vital?

The smile that spread across the then seven year old's face had been all Tonks, accentuated by the various colors his hair had rifled through, but the joy in his amber eyes had been almost like a silent thank you from Remus and Harry knew he had made the right decision.

"I thought you said you wanted eggs this morning?" Harry paused at the sight of Teddy picking over the fried eggs with his fork.

"I do." Teddy shrugged but still not eating.

Harry poured himself a mug of coffee before glancing down at the heavy watch on his wrist. They had fifteen minutes before Teddy needed to be dropped off. Plenty of time for him to dig out what was bothering the boy. He sat down on the stool opposite Teddy, before taking a slice of cinnamon toast from the platter he had made earlier.

"So if it's not the eggs," he began, chewing through a large bite and making Teddy grin, "Then what has you doing a dark and broody?"

"Don't know." A shoulder lifted. "Just woke up that way."

"Well aren't you just a Potter," Harry teased, referring to his own tendency to brood that he hadn't conquered over the years. Hermione claimed that it had to be genetic and probably regulated to moon cycles but he had proven her wrong by going through a three month marathon of gloom after his failed relationship with her sister-in-law.

"Is it school? Someone giving you a hard time?"

"No, really Dad, it's nothing. I guess I'm just a little sad because Gran's birthday is tomorrow."

"So it is." He nodded taking another sip of the rich brew he often mainlined like a drug when working a difficult case. "You want to take a trip back?" It wasn't often they returned to Grimmauld and the country Harry had long since stopped calling home. He would if made Teddy feel better. It would be worth the Daily Prophet articles, the interfering reporters and the constant pleas for him to return _'home'_ where he belonged.

"Maybe we could go see a play, she always enjoyed those."

Though Andromeda Tonks had been born a pureblood witch to the Most Ancient House of Black, after her marriage to her muggle-born husband she had become very acquainted with the muggle world. One of her secret vices had been the theater and she had shared her love with Teddy before she died, taking him to several productions a child could enjoy.

It had been Harry's pleasure to continue the tradition with Teddy after her death as a way to maintain the connection to the woman they both loved. Finding the magical equivalent of Broadway was a stroke of luck.

"We'll make an afternoon of it," Harry agreed and the smile it brought to Teddy's face was all the thanks he would ever need.

"Are you bringing Audra?"

Harry's smile slowly faded as he thought of the diminutive witch who ran a small bookstore in Tribeca he had dated for almost a month. The pretty brunette had been a lighthearted diversion but neither had wanted more from their relationship. She too busy running her store and having fun and he had a demanding career and son to care for that he couldn't drop at a moments notice to attend a last minute party a friend was throwing. They parted with no hard feelings.

"No, we're no longer dating. I thought I had mentioned that to you."

He didn't miss the smirk of pleasure the boy tried to hide. It was no secret Teddy didn't care for Audra. His son had often muttered several unflattering names under his breath that he thought no one could hear after she had made an off hand comment about Teddy's metamorphmagus abilities. She had quickly apologized and Harry knew she had meant no harm but the damage was done and she had remained on Teddy's bad side for the duration of their short relationship.

Harry hadn't pressed because he knew Audra wasn't to be a major part of his life but then most of the women he dated were short term. The longest relationship he had after Ginny lasted three months and ended because she pressed for more than he was ready to give. Imagine knowing someone for a mere three months and expecting to move in together.

"Oh, so I guess it will be just the two of us then?"

"Unless you'd like to invite one of your friends," Harry offered but Teddy shook his head.

Teddy had made several friends from school, his closest an Edison Chen who lived in Chinatown with a large traditional family who was very nice to Teddy and happy to have him when the boys planned their sleepovers. Though Harry had to say Kym Mason, the young African witch who lived a few blocks away from their condo came a close second.

The trio often reminded him of his school days with Ron and Hermione, though he would have to say Edison was more like him while Teddy reminded him more each day of the very studious Hermione though with a lot less reverence for authority. Again those Potter traits rubbing off.

"Nah, Eddie has a thing with his family and Kym is going to visit her family back in Ethiopia. She won't be back for two weeks."

"I guess you'll just have to settle for me then," Harry sighed dramatically enjoying Teddy's loud snort of laughter. "Finish up so we can get you to school. If I'm not mistaken you're taking a trip to the museum this morning and you wouldn't want to miss that."

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><p><em><strong>StS<strong>_

* * *

><p>The New York branch of the American Ministry of Magic was nothing like its British counter part. Housed in a grand estate near upstate New York it was breath of fresh air after the stifling atmosphere back in England. The Department of Law Enforcement took up the entire top level of the mansion that his fellow Aurors joking referred to as the bullpen.<p>

The department was organized much like the muggle police agencies and was much more efficient in his personal opinion. He worked in the investigative services division, often floating from cases that ran from illegal potion ingredient trafficking to robberies but mostly his six member team worked homicides and had the best solve rate in the Department.

"Morning Warden," he waved to the woman at the front desk they had given the moniker of keeper. "How is everything?"

Katherine Fields was a lovely thirty-six year old wife and mother of four children all whose pictures decorated the wide desk that resembled something out of a sci-fi movie. She was a slender woman who favored neat tailored business suits, styled her hair in a neat bob that complimented her attractive face and wore black framed glasses on a gold chain that she sometime used to make you feel as childish as her seven year old if necessary.

As office manager it was her duty to make sure the Aurors got their messages, filed their reports and was the connection to the other departments in the Ministry. They called her Warden because she ruled the bullpen with a firm hand; she suffered no fools and took care of her Aurors like they were extended family.

"Good Morning Harry," she smiled, passing him several yellow and pink slips of paper. "Just fine. Don't forget you and Jason are due in court later this afternoon for the DeVos trial."

"Bloody bastard." Harry sneered as he remembered the bastard who had managed to injure two members of his team before capture.

"Language, Harry," she reprimanded gently with a simple raise of her brow.

"Sorry." But his grin was irreverent.

Everything about Creston DeVos pissed him off. The arrogant wizard was a pureblood elitist, a bad reminder from his years in England and the war, who thought nothing of slaughtering magical creatures for sport. The DeVos family had been humiliated to learn their youngest son surrounded himself with such prejudice as they had been firm supporters of the rights for all magical beings for many generations. It had been his pleasure to shut down the git's little 'hunting club' with the combined efforts of three other departments within the Ministry.

"Could you give me ring up if I'm out of the office?"

"Always. I swear you all would forget your heads if they weren't attached to your necks. What has the state of Law Enforcement come to when we're dependent on such Aurors to serve and protect?"

"Har-har. Funny. Really." Harry shook his head to belie the words he had spoken. "I'm just laughing on the _inside_." This only served to bring forth a warm chuckle of amusement at his expense. He simply grabbed his mail from his slot and smirked.

He made his way through the large area to the office area he shared with his team, stopping at the door to pour himself a mug of coffee the Warden kept them supplied with everyday before moving to his desk. The casual tweed jacket was hung on the back of his chair, to reveal a dark blue shirt tucked into jeans and worn with heavy black boots. He appreciated the casual dress code for the office, as he would have hated being stuck in formal Auror robes all day everyday.

It definitely made chasing down criminals easier. He had a desk draw full of ties and his dark blue robes were in the large armoire he shared with his team on the opposite wall so he would be prepared for court when necessary.

After the disaster and fallout of his relationship with Ginny, he had firecalled Jason to ask if the position that had been casually presented during his visit could be turned into a genuine offer. He had needed a change of scenery despite the fact that his friends thought going all the way to the States was taking things too far. The American Ministry had welcomed him with open arms. After nine months of training and learning the different laws, he was placed on Jason's team and he hadn't regretted the move at all.

The Weasleys had been divided mostly in favor of Ginny but he had expected that. She had quickly rushed home to her parents and as revenge quickly spread the tale of how Harry Potter had broken her heart to the _Daily Prophet_.

After the war and the loss of Fred, the family had grown more protective of its members. The loss of that love and support had been like losing a limb. He was still invited to Sunday suppers and holiday celebrations but he had hurt one of their own and Harry had quickly come to understand the saying that blood was thicker than water, at least in the Weasley family.

The papers were quick to pass judgment, calling him everything from heartless to a playboy out to sow his oats. It didn't matter that Ginny had been the one who cheated, not if it sold more papers to paint him with the tainted brush. Potter headlines sold papers, the more malicious the better. Ironically, it didn't stop the hoards of fan mail he had been forced to hire a house elf to handle. In fact, his so-called bad boy image seemed to inspire women even more. Hermione had said something about women wanting to be the love who finally reformed him. It thought they were nutters.

"So have you decided to take me up on my offer?"

Harry spared Jason a quick glance before returning to the phone messages he would need to return before the day was over. "And what offer would that be?"

"You can't have forgotten that quickly." His partner sat on the edge of the desk, already adjusting the lines of his suit so it wouldn't wrinkle. Jason was a clothes whore and didn't care what anyone thought of it. If he didn't know the wizard came from Old money, he would have seriously questioned where Jason got the galleons to pay for such an expensive wardrobe.

"Double date. Me and Layla, you and her cousin Celine." At his frown, Jason rolled his eyes and groaned in disappointment. "Oh, come on Harry. It's been a month since you got rid of Audra the space cadet. You can't still be hung up on her. Please tell me it isn't so?"

Audra had reminded him fondly of Luna, though now that he thought about it, Luna was an acquired taste. "No, I'm not hung up on Audra. I've been busy with work. You know that stuff we do each day when we come in to the bullpen? You should try it sometime, it's quite refreshing."

"Yeah, you definitely need to get laid if you're torturing me with sarcasm."

"I try not to think of my nonexistent sex life but I thank you for reminding me. Arsehole. As tempting as your offer is, I have plans with Teddy this weekend. It's his Gran's birthday and he's having a rough time of it." Though Andromeda had been gone for a few years now it was difficult for the boy to lose one of the few remaining family members he had. For the first years of his life, Andromeda hadn't been merely his grandmother but the mother he never had.

"Fine, spend the weekend with the midget," Jason mocked lightly. Harry knew Jason and Teddy got on like fiendfyre, so there was no offense to the words.

While Ron and Hermione would always be family, Jason had become the best friend he hadn't known he was missing. Jason was the one who pushed him back into dating when he had been reluctant to pursue a woman for any reason. He helped Harry relocate to New York with a minimal of fuss and helped him to integrate into the department.

The Auror was confident in his self-worth, something Ron was still struggling to attain even after all of these years but it also helped that Jason didn't have to endure the tribulations of being friends with the Boy-Who-Lived. Here in America, he was simply Harry Potter. There were plenty of celebrities for the paparazzi to stalk without adding him to their list.

"I got a lead on the Staenberg case; you want to check that out now or after court?"

Kerulen Staenberg was wanted in questioning for the murder of three women, two witches and one mundane. He would rape and strangle his victims with a suffocation hex before leaving them in motel rooms to be found by housekeeping. The man made the barest of efforts in concealing his identity. It was like he was laughing at their efforts to put together a case against him. Both Aurors feared they had a serial killer on their hands but didn't want to speak the words aloud for fear of the suspicion becoming reality.

"Now," Harry stood from his chair to slip back into his jacket. The sooner they put this one to bed, the better he would sleep at night.

_**StS**_

What he loved most about New York were the people. Mundane or Magical, New Yorkers were a breed all their own. In the constantly changing city, he was able to blend in a way he had never accomplished back in England. He wasn't deceiving himself, he was well aware of the fact that he was probably one of the more powerful wizards in the world. Yet, here in this crazy city, where there were plenty of people who eagerly sought the bright lights and flash and bang, he could achieve the normality he had ached for most of his life.

It also enabled him to do the job he loved.

Now some thought after the war he would have chosen a profession that was as far removed from fighting Dark wizards as possible. Hermione would claim it was his _'saving people'_ thing but he knew differently. Being an Auror enabled him to not only help people and do some good for the world but it satisfied an intrinsic part of his personality.

He enjoyed solving puzzles and placing the pieces of a case together. It engaged his mind in a way few things ever could. He also had a decided need to see justice carried out for the victim of a crime. If that made him a quintessential Gryffindor, so be it.

That's why he was cursing himself as he stood in the apartment of Jason's lead on their newest case, casting charms to alleviate the stench of death that surrounded them. He hadn't known this coming at all.

"I thought I'd seen everything in this job, you know?"

Jason ran a shaky hand through his hair as they glanced around and Harry could hear just how affected his partner was. Neither had thought much of the quaint little apartment building. The neighborhood was definitely all magical, its inhabitants closer to their age but with the careless air about them that often disregarded death or murder because they were too wrapped up in a busy career to be bothered.

Harry had detected the medium level wards surrounding the building, the weight of the magic humming against his skin but was easily ignored. Jason's lead, Calandra Barthello, a witch who worked as a stylist in a magical spa, had evidently been close friends with one of their victims. She had been in Italy on vacation for the past month and called the station when she returned and heard the news.

As they entered the apartment and the horror that remained of Miss Barthello, Harry figured he hadn't faced anything like this since the war.

"She was a fighter, I'll give her that," he murmured. "Why don't you call this one in?"

The hand that reached for his wand trembled for the slightest second before regaining control. He cast sealant spells around the both of them so the integrity of the crime scene wouldn't be compromised. The last thing he wanted was for that fucker Staenberg to get off on a technicality. Not if that monster was capable of something like this.

_Stop thinking. Do the job._

A complex wand pattern conjured a dull red orb that flared brightly at his voice and was bound to his magic. "Auror Sphere, Lieutenant First Grade, Harry James Potter. Identification: six, one, four, Excalibur. Accompanied by Lieutenant First Grade, Jason Paterson. Initial investigative spells cast by Auror Potter: ward detection, entrance, dispel, sealant, sphere. Record on."

His steps took him to middle of the sitting room the Auror sphere hovering behind him waiting for him to report. "Victim identified as Calandra Barthello, located in home. Body was discovered upon entry by Aurors Potter and Paterson."

Harry squat down in front of the table that sat before a large expensive looking sofa, bracing an elbow on his knee. Fingers rubbed at his forehead at the growing ache but he took a shallow breath through his mouth.

_Work the Scene. Do the job._

"Victim's throat was slit. Spell marks suggest a mid level slicing hex. Body position suggests victim was placed there before assailant," he stopped as his voice cracked, glancing around. It looked like a small war had torn through the room. There was blood everywhere, splattered over the furniture and the walls. Pooled on the floor.

He didn't know what Calandra Barthello had to tell them but he knew whatever it was couldn't have possibly deserved this. She had been brutally slaughtered and left to bleed out on a table like garbage. Merlin help Staenberg if he was responsible.

Merlin, help him.

"Fuck me, Harry, do you see this?"

He didn't have to turn around to know his partner's face was pale with shock.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Three<strong>_

"_**You build me up  
>You knock me down<br>Provoke a smile  
>And make me frown<br>You are the Queen of runaround  
>You know it's true"<strong>_

_**-Maroon 5, Shiver**_

Harry sat at his desk wondering how their investigation had taken this unexpected turn. They did the dance this afternoon with extremely fruitless results. While forensics swept the flat, he and Jason had questioned the other residents of the building who were home at the time. Neither had been expecting much given the basic silencing wards each flat held that were part of the rental package and that's exactly what they got. There could have been a full parade marching and no one would have heard it.

Medical examiners took the body after an initial magical scan. Calandra had been dead for approximately twelve hours which told them she had been attacked shortly after she made the appointment to speak to Jason.

Now he had four women dead, one suspect and questions there didn't seem to be answers to. What could Calandra have known? They knew she was friends with the third victim in their investigation, Rachel Wylye. They weren't co-workers, as Wylye was the personal assistant to some big name fitness trainer. Was Calandra connected in some way to Staenberg that they had yet to discover?

The first major problem would be linking the crimes. Staenberg's MO was rape and strangulation, not vicious slaughter. If Staenberg was responsible, what had caused him to change his methods?

Then he would have to sift through the evidence forensics collected because with the violent way Calandra died, there would be plenty. They still had traces of the perpetrator's magical signature to work with and if it matched Staenberg's for the other three murders it would make the case for Calandra's murder solid.

He grimaced at the swallow of cold coffee but his eyes didn't stray from the different stacks of paperwork that were spread across his desk. The only thing Harry knew the four victims had in common was the attacker's contempt for the women. With each murder, they had been simply discarded. The first three utilized to slake sexual desire and the fourth to satisfy a great rage. It was a definite sign of how their perp viewed women in general, as something to be used and then tossed away without any further thought.

The disturbing thoughts had him removing his glasses so he could scrub a hand down his face. A quick glance around the office told him most of the Aurors on duty had gone home for the evening. He faltered as his mind jumped on the time and it was long past the hour where he would have flooed home.

He removed the two-way mirror he carried in his pocket, a quick tap of his wand enlarging it to the size of the picture of him and Teddy sitting on his desk. The match was a large ornate mirror that stood in the library that doubled as a home office. When Teddy moved in, he had needed a way to keep in contact with Teddy's nanny and he remembered the two-way mirrors Sirius had made so they could speak to each other.

"Home."

A few minutes later Teddy's smiling face appeared. "Dad! You're late."

"I know. Sorry about that kiddo. I didn't realize the time."

"Gemma has your dinner under a warming charm."

The way Teddy said it sounded more like a warning. He had hired the pushy little house elf to help take care of Teddy while he was working but she insisted on mothering him too. Gemma never liked when he worked late and had guilt trips down to an art form.

"Well you may inform Gemma that I'll be home in thirty minutes. That should give me enough time to clean my desk." He would just have to finish working at home.

"Oh yeah, Aunt Hermione called." That had him lifting a brow. "She asked for you to call her back. No matter what time you got home."

"And doesn't that sound ominous. It's important?"

"She looked upset. She told me to tell you there was nothing wrong but it was very important she speak with you tonight."

And that could mean just about anything. "I guess I'll call her from here then." He paused, deciding that whatever Hermione wanted could wait a while longer. "Did you finish your homework?"

"Yes, I only had an essay so it wasn't hard."

"On?"

"Our favorite exhibit at the museum today and some history about it."

"So what did you write about?"

"The newest Gringotts exhibition from the Congo. I really liked it. Everyone thought it was boring because it was just a lot of old artifacts and stuff but I thought it was brilliant."

"I have a budding archeologist slash curse breaker in the making."

"I don't know about curse breaking but I do like the archeology and history."

"That's something for you to think about but there is time." It was never too early to start steering Teddy in the right direction. He would begin his magical education in less than a year after all. When he was still in school, Harry hadn't understood how important an education could be, especially when choosing a career. It had taken him some years of hard work and revision to catch up but it was worth the effort. Hopefully he would be able to spare Teddy the same.

"I'll check over your essay when I get home. I expect to find you clean and in your pajamas when I get there."

"But Dad," he whined sounding more like his six year old self.

"No buts."

"Fine," Teddy muttered.

"Good boy. Now let me finish up here and I'll see you soon. Love you Teddy."

"I love you too Dad."

He waited until Teddy's image faded and his mirror returned to its normal state before making his second contact for the evening. "Weasley-Granger residence." What on earth could be so important that Hermione would be awaiting his call at midnight?

When he had created the neat two way mirrors for home, he had sent one over to Hermione so they could keep in touch. They still worked great over the long distance and were a lot more personal than a phone call and handy when fire calling wasn't an option.

Despite the late hour, it was only a few seconds before Hermione appeared. She must have been sitting right in front of the mirror.

"Harry!" She did smile along with the cheerful greeting despite the worry in her eyes. "It's good to see you Harry. You should call more often you know."

"'Mione we just talked on Sunday." Their habit was to check in with each other at least once a week. This week had been his turn and they had talked shortly after supper England time. The time difference made things tricky but nothing so bad that it couldn't be worked out.

His relationship with the Weasleys might be strained but Hermione he loved like a sister and that would never change. He also had the memory of a very sharp knock to the back of his head to insure he never forgot. Hermione had been quite forceful in reinforcing the fact that Harry was her best friend and Ron and the Weasleys behavior would never change her feelings.

"Are you still at work? Isn't it after seven there?"

"Yes, there was a complication in a case I'm on, I've been looking through some forensic reports."

"Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," he assured her. While he might be frustrated, he had little doubt that he would put the person responsible behind bars where they belonged. He would accept nothing less. "So what's wrong?"

"Who said anything about something being wrong?"

""Mione," he drawled slowly.

"Fine, fine." Her mouth was tight and grim, proving whatever she was going to tell him wouldn't be good. "So there is a big Wednesday night dinner at the Molly and Arthur's that I was harangued into attending tonight."

That would certainly had angered Hermione, because Weasley dinners tended to start at five when Arthur flooed home from work and Hermione was known for working at the office until well after seven. She took her position as Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures very seriously.

Hermione was not only the youngest Department Head in Ministry history but the first Muggleborn to ever reach such a distinction. If they thought they were insulting her with the position they couldn't have been more wrong. In the three years she had Headed the department she had changed and helped enact several laws for the better of magical beings and creatures in British wizarding society. This was nothing he hadn't anticipated from the girl who had started S.P.E.W.

"Weasley dinners are entertaining I'm sure but that still doesn't explain the emergency."

"I wanted to be the one to tell you Harry, face to face. I thought you deserved that much consideration." She took a deep breath steadying herself as if she needed to spill the information fast. "I know you and Ginny have been over for years now but the way," she broke off again.

Ginny. Why wasn't he surprised this had to do with her.

"Just tell me," he drawled inexplicably annoyed with the situation now. It wasn't likely to hurt his feelings because he could care less about Ginny at this point.

"She's getting married Harry."

He had to blink several times at that. No, it truly didn't hurt at all despite the way their relationship had ended. He did pity the poor idiot who was tying himself to a woman who knew less about fidelity than an alley cat in heat. After their breakup it had been ridiculously easy to discover just how often Ginny had slept around on him.

"Why does this concern me?"

"It's going to be announced in tomorrow's edition of the Daily Prophet. She's been dating Ernie Macmillan for almost a year now. She said he proposed last week. They informed his family on Sunday and hers tonight. The ceremony is planned for some time in August."

"Of course it is. With all the pomp and circumstance I'm sure." Macmillan despite being a bit of a snob was a decent enough guy. Well known pure-blood light family. The heir to the family fortune.

Unfortunately, this meant he was bound to be dragged into the article as well. Given Hermione's expression, she had already arrived at his conclusion and that was the reason for the call. It would be an annoyance but not one that really touched his life here in New York. Besides, he didn't read the Prophet anymore.

Then an unholy grin spread across his lips at what was bound to be a front page story. "I bet that just burns her ass, doesn't it."

"What do you mean?" She asked cautiously.

"That the only reason she merits a cover story is because I'll be mentioned. Otherwise the Macmillan/Weasley marriage announcement would probably be buried somewhere on page ten."

"That's mean Harry," but she did giggle despite the reprimand. "I never knew you were so conceited, buying into your own press and making Ginny's upcoming nuptial announcement about you."

"I just know what that rag will do to sell papers. But I thank you for giving me a heads up 'Mione."

"I know you don't love her anymore," she sighed, tired and he could see the fatigue in her face now. "You probably don't even like her anymore. I just didn't want you to be blindsided regardless. And Harry? You should know she plans to send you an invitation."

"Really?" He quirked a brow in surprise.

"We were discussing her guest list after supper. Me, Ginny, Angelina and Fleur. That's when she mentioned sending you an invitation. She claims it's because you're part of the family and she wants to prove that there are no hard feelings."

"And when did Ginny subscribe to dramatic angst? I guess that's just something more that I didn't need to know about her."

"I could tell she was being spiteful," Hermione couldn't help the thin smile.

When his and Ginny's relationship ended and Hermione had supported him, Ginny had practically severed her friendship with Hermione. Things were tense between Hermione and Ron at times but there was no real way to mend things. Ron tried to be neutral and stay out of the arguments between him and Ginny but it was near impossible for Ron not to choose sides when it involved the little sister he had been protective of all their lives. He and Ron remained friends but nothing like the way things used to be.

"Don't worry about it, 'Mione. Really. I'm not hurt or angry or anything. The article in the Prophet is just like any other and I have more important things to worry about than who Ginny marries. Though it would probably be hilarious to show up if she wants to go to so much trouble to invite me."

"You wouldn't!"

"It would be nice to see everyone again, despite the occasion."

Hermione had a look that said if he moved home then he would see them all the time. It was just too bad that he loved his life here in New York exactly the way it was. Before she could start he decided to end the call. "I should get home. Gemma will be ready to pull my ear as it is."

"I spoke with Teddy for a few minutes. He's growing up so fast Harry. You're doing such a good job raising him."

"Andromeda's birthday is this weekend, so he's been a little upset about that but otherwise, yeah, Teddy's a great kid. I've been really lucky. We're going to see a show and then go out for dinner in tribute of Dromeda."

And hopefully his case wouldn't interfere.

* * *

><p><em><strong>StS<strong>_

* * *

><p>It was official.<p>

The universe had finally suffered a massive calamity of epic proportions and everything he knew and trusted was now to come to an end.

Or perhaps he had suffered one too many cracks to the head during his tenure as an Auror and had finally gone insane.

Either worked as explanations for the reason why he was currently staring down at the stage in the Braithwaite Theater watching Draco Malfoy in the leading role in the magical production of Anastasia.

From the moment the woman had strolled onto the stage, he had been suspicious. The platinum blonde hair. The features that no longer leaned toward the elder Malfoy but were softened to a more feminine combination of both Narcissa and Lucius. What finally convinced him was the moment she turned mocking silver eyes toward the audience and that pouty mouth curved into a smirk.

_Classic Draco._

Harry would recognize that arrogant bastard's expression no matter what disguise he tried to bury himself in.

Was it simple make-up? Polyjuice potion? An extensive glamour? A complex transfiguration? A combination of the above? Whatever the case the eighteen year old man he had last seen was now a twenty-eight year old woman.

Granted she was stunning. And, Merlin, he was definitely having difficulties with that realization. The unwanted attraction stirring through his blood probably should have made him ill. It was Malfoy after all. Back in Hogwarts, Draco was the bigoted git who had insulted his friends, and did everything in his power to make Harry want to knock that smug look off his face whenever the opportunity arose.

So what the hell was he, _pardon she_, doing here in America performing in a musical production?

It was wrong that he, _she_, was that beautiful. Graceful. Perfectly aware of the spell she cast on the audience and the appreciative glances she received in return. A nubile figure of regal curves that stood confidently before the audience was made all the more seductive when she opened her mouth and that voice came out.

Bloody hell, now if that wasn't straight sex he didn't know what it could be classified as.

She was clearly a professional, as the accent had been stricken from her voice. From what he remembered, Draco had a high pitched voice, leaning toward whiny. This woman's voice was a whiskey-toned alto that promised all kinds of naughty things if she deemed you worthy.

Every preconception he had about the former Slytherin was blasted to smithereens, forcing him to re-evaluate.

"Dad? Who is Lyra Malfoy? Is she related to Gran's sister?"

Harry glanced down at his son who held the program open to the cast page in a tight grip and looked quite upset. The whispered question had trembled toward the end and he wanted to damn Malfoy for ruining this day for Teddy. What could he tell the boy for he wasn't certain this truly was the Draco Malfoy he knew in school? It didn't matter that his gut was screaming this was Malfoy and not some mysterious relative.

It was obvious that she was a Black as she had enough of the family features to proclaim him as such. She had even held to tradition, selecting an astrological name the Blacks were known for choosing. A pureblood would preen and say this was proof that blood ran true. It didn't help that she favored Andromeda enough to make him uncomfortable. Teddy would see this as a sign. A Black on his Gran's birthday. Teddy would want to meet her despite everything he had heard about the war and the Malfoy family.

If Malfoy hadn't changed, Harry couldn't imagine the meeting going well. She would take one look at the son of a werewolf and a disowned Black and turn her nose up in distaste and he would be forced to break the Auror regulations and hex him. He couldn't punch out a woman, now could he?

That still wouldn't prevent Teddy's heart from being broken.

He knew the tickets for this matinee performance were just too good to be true. A specially selected show for children? The cast holding a question and answer session so the kids could meet the talent behind the characters? He should have passed on the specially priced tickets and opted for the night show instead. Or perhaps chosen another show altogether.

_**FSFSFS**_

Harry hadn't expected to enjoy the show as much as he had. He would have wagered several galleons that his suspicion of the lead actress being his old childhood rival would have tarnished any pleasure he might have received in watching the performances.

And he would have lost.

Whoever Lyra Malfoy was, Draco or no, she was an extremely talented actress and she had not landed this role on her looks alone. Given the expression on the children's faces that all crowded around the bottom of the stage for their discussion time with the cast, the show had been a hit all around.

When his mystery woman had emerged from backstage, comfortable in a flaxen linen blazer over a fitted white tee, denims rolled to her mid calf and strappy sandals, Harry was forced to blink in yet another surprise. This woman was the same elegant beauty who had graced the stage just minutes ago. And what was with that ragged fisherman's hat that now covered the platinum waves from before?

She squat down right in the middle of the kids, a bright smile making her illusive beauty more approachable, and joined in the discussion her cast mates had been holding. He was wrong. This couldn't be Draco Malfoy. Not this woman who was free and genuine with these children and was beloved in return. Children could sense when adults were wearing masks, or trying too hard, and they all seemed to enjoy speaking with her. Definitely not Malfoy.

The fifteen minute session was finally wrapping up and Harry was feeling a little guilty for having stared at the woman for the entire time. As he went to retrieve Teddy, he felt like he should apologize for his actions but imagine his surprise when that lovely face turned in his direction graced with a familiar expression.

_"Well, if it isn't Harry Potter. Slayer of Dark Lords, Champion to the weak and defenseless and the true Gryffindor Golden Boy himself."_


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Four<strong>_

"_**There is nothing left to say  
>To you<br>That you wanna hear  
>That you wanna know<br>I think I should go  
>The things I've done are way too shameful"<strong>_

_**-Maroon 5, Tangled**_

To say she had been surprised to see Harry Potter when she walked out onto the stage after the show would have been a massive understatement. For a brief moment, she had considered turning back around and racing to her dressing room to lock herself inside and not emerging until she was certain that a certain green eyed menace had left the building.

What the hell was Potter doing in New York of all places?

This was _her_ sanctuary. _Her _safe haven. _Hers goddamn it_!

Why the bloody fuck did Potter of all wizards have to come along and ruin everything!

Then mid tantrum, Lyra Draconis Malfoy had caught herself and felt like a fool for falling into patterns of behavior she had long since abandoned. It hadn't been easy but after years of work and effort she had finally shaped herself into someone she no longer had to be ashamed of. She was not going to allow anyone to take her accomplishments away from her. Especially not Harry Potter.

She had glanced around the auditorium and remembered this was the matinee performance of their musical, focused mainly toward their younger audience, which meant one of these kids was Potter's. Had he married Ginerva Weasley? The last she heard before leaving home, the happy couple were back together and there were dreams of little ginger haired, green eyed, Potter progeny for the future.

It was terribly cliché, marrying your childhood sweetheart but whatever floated the Gryffindor's boat. If Potter wanted to wed the first woman to grace his bed that was entirely up to him and none of her business. Though rumors abound at Hogwarts even down to the Slytherin dungeons that Ginny Weasley was anything but the pure maiden she portrayed herself to be.

She glanced at the circle of children, noting the absence of any redheaded children but there were a couple brunettes that could possibly be Potter's child. Rather than dwell, she had forgotten about the man who seemed determined to stare a hole in her forehead and concentrated on the young witches and wizards she was supposed to be speaking to.

_"Well, if it isn't Harry Potter. Slayer of Dark Lords, Champion to the weak and defenseless and the true Gryffindor Golden Boy himself."_

For the sake of their history, she had greeted Potter the way Draco Malfoy would have back in school. With all the bluster and sarcasm that she could rouse. The furious expression on his face had inspired a burst of laughter the man certainly wasn't expecting.

"I knew it was you. You haven't changed at all Malfoy!" He leaned forward to whisper angrily so no one could overhear their conversation.

"Oh come on, that was hilarious and you know it." She smiled at his confusion, enjoying the fact that for the first time she had caught Harry Potter off guard and not knowing how he should respond. "Besides, you have to admit, I think I've changed a great deal since Hogwarts, don't you."

And that had him practically bristling. "You know exactly what I meant."

"Please it's been years, ten in fact. I think it's safe to say we've both grown up, Potter, so get over yourself." Seeing the little boy who clutched the man's hand like a lifeline, she offered him a gentle smile. "Hello there. Did you enjoy the show?"

"Very much, ma'am," was the soft reply and she only managed a glimpse of amber eyes before a flushed face looked back down at the floor.

"Polite and handsome, an unexpected surprise," she murmured loud enough for Potter to hear and was greatly amused by the way he bristled in response. It was always so much fun to bait him and see the reaction. This time, however it was all in good fun, so she tried not to poke too hard. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Malfoy, you stand there all innocent, as if you don't know it's a major shock seeing you here, looking like _that_ and then quietly suggest I introduce you to my son?"

So this was his son after all. Strange, she didn't recall the female Weasley having amber tinted eyes. And while the boy was certainly adorable, he didn't resemble either of them. Rather than respond, she merely lifted a perfectly arched brow, waiting for him to give in to her demands.

"Fine," he grunted and she resisted the urge to grin, she was a better person now and it wouldn't be polite to be smug at Potter capitulation. "Teddy, this is an old schoolmate of mine, Lyra Malfoy. Lyra, I'd like you to meet my son Teddy Potter."

"I thought you said you didn't know her?"

Potter looked guiltily down at his son, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck in a very familiar nervous gesture. "I wasn't quite sure they were the same."

"With a name like Lyra," she snorted, very unladylike and the sound had Potter blinking in surprise. "How do you do Teddy, if I may?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent." She gave him another smile before brushing a hand gently over his messy brown hair, then gasping with delight as it flashed first black and red before settling on a platinum blonde very similar to her color. "A metamorphmagus. A laudable talent."

"I haven't mastered my facial features but Dad says that will come with time and practice."

"And he would be correct."

"So were you and Dad friends in Hogwarts?"

Both took a moment to choke back a burst of laughter at the innocently asked question. Malfoy and Potter were anything but friends during their school years. If anything, they could be termed as rivals with a dose of virulent loathing tossed in for good measure.

"Not exactly, Teddy." Potter hedged clearly not wanting to tell his son how the two had fought like rabid wolves most of the time, as it would set a bad example.

"We were in rival houses, Potter the brave and bold Gryffindor while I was of the cunning and ambitious Slytherin. Not a combination that inspired friendship during those years," she answered the young boy as gently as she could. Then reprimanded herself for the spike of emotion she felt curl in her stomach at the gratitude in Harry's vivid green eyes.

"So is she related to Gran?"

She had no idea what the boy was talking about, as her family could only be termed as distantly related to the Weasleys in any way. But Potter surprised her yet again by saying, "Yes, she is. Malfoy's mother and your Gran Andromeda were sisters."

A distant memory tried to shimmer to life and as she had forcibly taken the months of the War and sent them to the deepest depths of her mind, it must have been a powerful one to break through her mental barriers. Bellatrix and his mother had a sister, Andromeda, the other Black who had been disowned for marrying a muggle-born. Andromeda had a daughter who had died in the war.

Which meant this little boy wasn't Potter's biological son but a Black. Their eyes met over the top of little Teddy's head and she could almost hear the plea for her not to shun this little boy over something as ridiculous as his bloodline. She wanted to take offense until she remembered they hadn't seen each other in years, there was no reason for Potter to know that she had changed and would never hurt a little boy's feelings in such a way.

"I suppose that would make us cousins then." She smiled at the happy expression on the boys face.

"Can she come to lunch with us Dad?" He asked Potter, then whirled around and pinned her with those same puppy eyes. "Can you? We're going to dinner and Dad promised I could have a slice of chocolate cake all to myself this time. Can you come? Please?"

"Teddy, she might have plans for the rest of the afternoon, we can't just impose on her time."

Actually she did have plans but nothing that couldn't be canceled. "I find myself free for the afternoon, Potter, so perhaps I could join you for an early dinner. It's been a long time since I've had a good slice of chocolate cake."

"You don't have to do this," he offered, "I'm sure Teddy will understand if you can't make it."

"Are you saying you don't want me there?"A delicately arched brow rose in mock consternation.

"No!" He flinched at the tone of her voice. "I didn't mean that at all. I just didn't want to impose on the rest of your afternoon. You're welcome to join us, if it pleases you."

She would never let the little boy down for something as simple as a meal outing and it would be more fun than she had in a while to spend the afternoon teasing Potter. How could she possibly resist such a tempting invitation?

* * *

><p><em><strong>StS<strong>_

* * *

><p>By the time they were seated at their table looking out on the darkening New York skyline, she had discovered that the years had been good to Harry Potter.<p>

The slim body that hadn't looked strong enough to stand up to a harsh wind had filled out to a nice set of shoulders and a chest a woman could rest comfortably on. He would never be tall but he was at least an inch or two taller than her five foot eight.

Age had matured his features but the same inherent strength in his face that had been present during their last years at Hogwarts remained. Someone had tamed his hair, so that it was short and stylishly messy instead of the awful cowlicks she remembered. Also he either had his eyes corrected or was wearing those muggle contact lenses she heard of, so she was given the perfect view of intense verdant eyes that made her pulse quicken.

And thankfully someone had taken the man aside and refurbished his wardrobe at some point. She could see the muscles straining against the white shirt he wore with a pair of dark blue denims and a casual dragon hide loafer. That was a nice arse cupped back there in those jeans, she recalled with a quick smile.

She wasn't ashamed to admit, she found Potter attractive. The man had a way about him that naturally drew the feminine eye. Power coiled around him, both physical and magical. A devastating combination. Nothing would ever come of it, of course, but she had stopped denying her feelings preferring to be honest with herself if no one else.

"So tell me Potter, what have you been up to?"

"I think if we're going to have lunch together, you're going to have to call me Harry. It seems a bit ridiculous to keep calling each other by our last names after all these years."

"Alright then. Harry," she all but purred his name and enjoyed the answering flicker of heat she saw in his eyes. It seemed Harry wasn't unaffected by her presence. "But you'll have to call me Lyra."

" Are you going to explain how that came about at some point?"

It wasn't everyday the boy who had made it his life's ambition to torment you turned up several years later magically transformed into a girl. Potter, Harry, she amended, had been remarkably patient with his questions. "That isn't exactly information for young ears," she answered and he gave a nod of agreement but she knew he would demand those answers later when his son wasn't around. Curiosity had always been Potter's weakness.

"I'm an Auror," he answered bluntly.

"I'm not surprised, you do the brave and heroic thing well." The sarcasm was lightened with a smile and the knowledge that Harry truly was one of the good guys. "But what are you doing in New York. I adore our little production but surely the few promising reviews weren't enough to garner interest back in England."

"I live here Mal-Lyra," he corrected at her pointed glare. "I have for years."

"Really? Isn't it a small world, I moved here shortly before my twentieth birthday, myself. You know seeking a new start. Land of opportunity. Where no one connected name Malfoy to things I preferred remain in my past."

Death Eater. The Dark Lord. Dark Curses. Shame. Humiliation. She didn't need to say those things for Harry to understand. If anyone knew what it was like to suffer under the weight of a name, it was the man sitting across from her.

"New beginnings I can understand. After things fell apart with Ginny, I was a bit desperate for anonymity. But an actress? Somehow that doesn't fit the whole pureblood agenda I remember you following."

"Merlin, Harry. I was a seventeen year old child who wouldn't understand life and the world if it had bitten me in the arse. Which it did toward the end there," she mumbled but his snort of laughter told her he had heard the words anyway.

"After the war, I was determined to make the Malfoy name respectable again. I would hold firm to my father's beliefs, marry and have children to continue the line and all that other pompous shite I thought was important. Then I went through my '_transformation'_, and things changed."

"And now?"

"Now, it all seems so pointless. Hating muggle-borns because they can't say their magical heritage goes back more than three generations? Wanting to murder innocent people who had done nothing to me? I saw what that man and his servants did in the name of blood purity and I'm ashamed to know I followed so blindly after a monster who would have easily killed me if I had breathed in his direction in a way he didn't like."

"So you haven't been throwing the word mudblood around then?"

"Never again," she vowed. "You have to understand what it's like for the offspring of pureblood families, Harry. As children we're never exposed to the outside world, all we know are the things our parents teach us. It's like we're little programmed robots, spitting out propaganda without ever being given the chance to learn any differently."

"I guess, I understand that."

"When I came over here, I was forced to learn about the world if I wanted to survive. Not just the magical one. Not just the fear and hatred instilled in us of muggles from birth as result of witch hunts and death centuries ago. And every time I cringed at some horrible knowledge I acquired, my shame grew as I realized that I was just as bad a those people who had sickened me."

"I know we need to be cautious and how important it is to keep our worlds separate but I never did understand how anyone could believe Hermione was inferior to me or anyone else simply because she was a muggle-born. She was much too intelligent and talented for me to ever accept a lie like that."

The waiter chose that moment to return with their meals halting the heavy topic for the time being and allowing her to watch Harry and the boy he had adopted as his son interact. Despite the differences in their physical features, it was clear who Teddy emulated. He might not be a Potter by blood but he was all Harry's son and Teddy adored his father.

She was surprised at Harry's parental skills as well. Teddy was clearly instructed in proper dining etiquette, as he made neither a mess nor tried to talk around a mouthful of food. He carried light conversation as well, telling her all about the subjects he enjoyed in school, his place on the league soccer team and his two best friends. Teddy was well adjusted and friendly in a way she could only envy.

As a child her parents had enforced strict behavior for the heir of an important pureblood family. At the lunch table she was expected to be seen and not heard and speak only when spoken to. She was homeschooled with tutors before attending Hogwarts and the sports were for exercise, such as dressage, hunting, swordsmanship and archery. She was allowed to play quidditch but she couldn't honestly call the children her age friends.

"I don't think you ever said how you got involved in acting."

"I've been a performer all of my life, it seemed only natural to take those talents one step further to the stage." That was her customary response to those who wondered why she chose such a fickle career.

"When I left home, I had to choose a place where the Malfoy name was practically unheard of. That ruled out all of Europe, Australia and a lot of Asia. There was a reason my father held such command in our world."

"So you chose America," Harry intuited.

"No one cared about Lucius Malfoy here. I admit I was hiding but I needed to hide then. I needed the chance to heal. It helped that there was a thriving magical society here that I could slip into before being thrust into the extremely unfamiliar muggle world."

It was difficult for her to recall those years. The time where she had been forced become something utterly alien and to survive only on her wits and determination. She was just grateful that galleons hadn't been an obstacle.

"That's one of the things I enjoy about New York," Harry said, his voice low and relaxed. He took a sip from the glass of white wine they had ordered with the meal. "Here our worlds can interact so seamlessly at times but still remain separate."

He nodded then to his son who was absorbed in his dinner and not paying much attention to the adult conversation for the moment. "I didn't want to raise Teddy ignorant of non magical people. Both worlds have so much to offer that it seems foolish to remain closed away in one without experiencing the other. I know many in the wizarding world don't agree with me, but I never asked them to take on my beliefs just as I can respect theirs."

There was a moment of silence, and she didn't know what he was thinking. His steady gaze bore into her, in expectation of what, she didn't quite know. Maybe he was waiting to see if she was sincere, perhaps he waited for her to go on about blood purity or the other beliefs she had parroted from her parents as a child.

If so, he would wait a long while. The break from the Malfoy family was complete and that wouldn't ever change. Her father's actions had ensured that.

Then something in his eyes changed. Whatever he had found there in her, he approved of. It was just so disconcerting, to be here with him this way when all of their young lives they had scratched and clawed at each other, striving to cause the most of amount of pain possible.

Sure toward the end of the war most of that had changed. Harry had suffered through an epic battle with one of the worst Dark Lords in history and things had become less black and white and more survival.

She had her eyes open in the worst ways possible. She had seen the darkest of their world, and had at times been forced to participate in evil that for years had awakened her in the night screaming.

That's why whatever this attraction was left her heart thumping erratically. Then again, their reactions to each other had always been rather passionate.

"So what did you finally do after you settled here?" The cool tone belied the prolonged tension that hovered in the air around them.

"Nothing at first. I have an inheritance that will last several generations passed on from my Grandmother, as well as the birthright I received when I turned eighteen. Nothing my father did could strip me completely of my heritage."

"So they weren't like the Blacks."

"No," she grinned, knowing he spoke of the way the Black family was quick to disinherit a member who wasn't living up to their standards. "Malfoys never air our disagreements in public. With my legacy, I was fortunate work wasn't an issue. In the beginning, I made my rounds here in the social circles similar to the ones back at home. Those quickly became boring and I fell in with a more progressive group."

"And that somehow lead to your acting?"

"A photographer took my picture at a party I went to and called me about a month later asking if I wanted work modeling. I was bored. I didn't want to return to school, so that was out of the question. I hated the idea of trudging to work each day to a position that I didn't want. So I decided I would give it a chance. One connection led to another and I eventually found myself in a small role in this really horrid play. But I enjoyed it and decided perhaps I could tolerate performing for a living."

"You're good," he admitted and she hated to acknowledge the fact that his praise meant something to her. But it was true. Even after all these years, Harry Potter's opinion had the power to affect her.

"Thank you. So, obviously I'm no longer the Malfoy heir. Father was furious when I refused to do what father deemed necessary to regain that position. Since it was his fault in the first place, I never understood why he didn't comprehend my rage at being forced to change my entire life. I had been born to a life of wealth and position and I had obligations to fulfill. By that point, I could care less."

"That sounds familiar," he muttered.

"Oh do tell," she insisted with a nudge with her foot under the table.

"When my godfather Sirius died, I inherited the majority of the Black estate and while my parents weren't from a wealthy family, the trust fund left for me would have been enough for me to live on comfortably for the rest of my life."

She didn't know the exact amount of the Black fortune but it was definitely nothing to take lightly. "Let me guess, lots of articles in the Daily Prophet about the rich and available Harry Potter."

"With lots of Witch Weekly covers for good measure. No one understood why I wouldn't prefer to live out my life spending my galleons instead of becoming an Auror. It wasn't their business anyway, so I didn't bother to explain."

"May I ask a question without you taking offense?"

"Why?"

"Call it general inquisitiveness, if you're uncomfortable answering, I'll take your refusal."

"Fine," he waved her off, "Go ahead and ask. I don't promise to answer."

She leaned over, gesturing him closer in a conspirator's manner to whisper, "So did Weasley have a fit when he realized how much you were worth?" He glared for a full three seconds, taking in her smirk and the playful glee in her eyes and an undeniable smile crept across his face.

"Never told him the actual amount."

She couldn't help herself as she burst into laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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><p>Chapter Five<p>

"_**Tap on my window, knock on my door  
>I want to make you feel beautiful.<br>I know I tend to get so insecure  
>It doesn't matter anymore"<strong>_

_**-Maroon 5, She Will Be Loved**_

It was easy enough to find Malfoy. The ridiculously luxurious penthouse condo was located in the midst of wizarding SoHo but was another prime example of why he enjoyed New York so. The Greene street unit was nestled right between two muggle apartment buildings but came equipped with mild notice-me-not charms so that the average New Yorker's gaze slid right past it without much observation.

Lunch with Malfoy had been halfway decent. No that wasn't true, Harry corrected with an inward grunt. If he was being honest, and he certainly tried to do so with himself at least, then lunch with Malfoy had been the best time he'd had in quite awhile. Malfoy had always held his attention, even back during their Hogwarts years. The boy had been an irritant on mild days and a bigoted git when Draco was at his absolute worst. Toward the end of the war all of that had changed.

No one truly understood why he had spoken up for Draco and his family, not even the Weasleys. Yes, the Slytherin had been awful to them during their early years but he had witnessed Draco's pain and guilt due to the actions he had been forced into after taking the Dark Mark. If Dumbledore could find absolution for Snape who had chosen to join the Dark Lord and done horrible things but realized his mistake in the end, how could he do any less for Draco?

Now ten years had passed and that same fascination with Malfoy remained. Gone was the pointy Lucius Malfoy clone who mindlessly parroted back hate filled rhetoric and in his place was a lovely mature woman who had experienced life and knew the world was more complex than the simple minded prejudice the child had been raised to believe.

She was still the same snarky git but that sarcasm tended to soften into a playful flirtation that he found himself responding to. He had little doubt she could still wield a sharp word with the same efficiency as in her youth but when Lyra said she had changed, her beliefs had changed, Harry found he was beginning to believe her. Harry knew the catalyst for this new perspective was her transformation and he was curious to discover how it came about. So when she invited him over Wednesday evening for dinner at her place, he had accepted without hesitation, ready for answers.

As he reached to ring the doorbell next to the nine foot antique doors, he found it already open. Auror instincts shimmered awake. Cautious, he pushed it wide, his wand already gripped in his hand. He went in low and silent. Celtic music, the soft strains of violins and the achy wail of pipes, drifted through the air covering the sounds of his steps.

"Malfoy?"

When he looked back on what happened next….it still would not be funny. Harry heard the rush of sound, and braced himself. Before he could identify himself as an Auror there was a whoosh of air and the next thing he knew a heavy ivory colored canine was standing on his chest growling.

"Fuck," he muttered. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that the dog surprised him, or that he was pinned helplessly to the floor. Then the demon started barking loud enough to raise the dead. He didn't dare move. The beast would attack and pull a plug out of his throat quicker than he could say Fluffy.

"Rhea, I see you've found a new toy."

The music shut off after the amused voice spoke from behind the dog. The moment of silence dragged on and the only sound was the dog breathing harshly in his face.

"Heel girl."

Harry coughed, and then stood slowly, rubbing the heel of his hand into his chest to soothe the ache from the collision. He measured the sight before him with a heated appraisal. No wilting princess this one. Back in the theater he couldn't have truly noted how beautiful she was, not if the sight of her had the power to clench his gut so forcefully.

Black leggings trimmed in jade rode dangerously low on a slim waist which flared into agilely rounded hips. The matching bra-like top hugged lush breasts that had the power to make any man's mouth dry and displayed stomach muscles glistening with sweat.

Malfoy stood with her arms crossed and a smirk on her mouth. The barely concealed glee in her eyes didn't help his pride any.

At least she wasn't angry.

"Well Potter, I had no idea you were so eager to see me. You're at least thirty minutes early."

He shifted to holster his wand but froze at the dark growl. "Careful. Rhea hasn't decided whether she likes you or not."

"My world can come to an end now," he answered, spacing each word evenly. "And I'm not early, you told me to get here at eight. It's eight."

This time she didn't hold back the smile, "Come now don't be sore. You don't like my baby, she's just a puppy."

"I never took you for the dog type, Malfoy."

"Rhea is more than a mere dog. She's a Jindo. Excellent pedigree. Besides, she was a gift from Blaise when he couldn't change my mind about returning to England." She leaned down beside the dog and rubbed the fur between her ears. "Go play nice with the Golden Boy. He's okay."

He stiffened when the dog approached him, "What are you doing?"

"Gently Harry. You're a stranger to her. She's still a baby, but she loves her mommy. Let her sniff your hand then scratch her behind the ears. She loves that."

"Yeah, she'll love eating my hand." His humiliation complete Harry put his hand in front of his crotch when the dog's nose immediately went there. Lyra's soft chuckle was enough to make him man up until the dog sniffed him. When Rhea sat and offered a paw, he relaxed.

"Well at least you only have one head," he muttered thinking of the Cerberus he met back during his first year of Hogwarts. He kneeled and scratched the dog allowing a small smile when she licked his hand.

"Now that the introductions are done, Potter, may I offer you something to drink?"

"Harry."

"Hmm," she turned back.

"We're supposed to be using our first names remember?" And he conveniently forgot that he had been calling her Malfoy before because the teasing rebuke threw her off balance.

She chewed on her lip a moment then looked directly into his eyes as if she had decided on something. "So I did. _Harry_." Damn, that drawl was sexy.

Then she looked down her nose at the dog in mock anger, "Didn't I ask you to make sure the door was closed completely, now look what you let in?" Rhea hung her head and whined for forgiveness.

The joy bubbling in her laugh made him smile. Oh, he could get used to that sound. The high cheekbones, the chin of iron determination and come-kiss-me mouth went together with that lovely sound perfectly.

The desire zinging through his bloodstream was a complication he couldn't seem to fight.

"So, drink?"

"I'll take a lager if you have it."

__Harry followed her through the foyer his boots barely making a sound on the dark wenge flooring into the living room. He sat down on the white leather sofa and looked around, impressed. The room was nothing like he had expected. The tasteful condo had a quiet class that whispered wealth. Nothing he hadn't expected from a Malfoy. Large black and white photographs of a ballet dancer hung over the couch and the fireplace. The room was beautiful, with Venetian plaster, silky walls and abutting windows that stretched over 20 feet into the air.

What was he doing here lusting after her? He had a demanding career and a precocious son to fill his life. Lyra Malfoy had complications written all over her.

"You have a nice home." He told her after she handed him a cold bottle then sat down across from him.

"Thank you, this is my place in the city. You should see the house, that's definitely pretentious." He didn't know what to think of that until she snickered and took a drink from her own bottle. "I bought the house first, when I was still a pretentious little shit and thought the world ought to revolve around me. It's gone through some major renovations over the years as I grew up."

"I did the same at Grimmauld Place, the Black House, after the war. Took some time and effort but the result was worth it."

She smiled at him, and he felt his lips curve. "And yet you're here in New York. How did that happen?"

"The long version or the nice one?"

That definitely lit her eyes up. "You're talking to me here. Of course I want the long one."

Harry knew he wasn't going to like what was coming next. Her smile was just a little too smug for comfort. "Let me guess, you found the Weaslette with someone else?"

"And wouldn't it have been so much simpler if everyone had told me she liked to sleep around?"

Grey eyes widened with shock, "You're joking? I actually guessed correctly?"

"Yes."

The look on her face was priceless and she was enjoying every moment of his discomfort. Moreover, why shouldn't she, after all these years, all those insults she had aimed at Ginny had proven true after all.

"I would say I'm sorry but I think you would see through the lie. I thought you knew she was a bed hopper. Most of Hogwarts knew that she liked to spread around her favors. I just figured you loved her enough to overlook her indiscretions."

"Lyra, we may have hated each other back then but did I strike you as the type of bloke to _'overlook'_ my girlfriend in bed with other guys?"

"It's not like you would have believed me if I had told you anyway!" She insisted with a sneer that was much more Malfoy of old. "Besides, you always were remarkably dense when it came to the Weasley clan. I don't think you would have believed anything but visual confirmation of your own."

That was probably true. "So, yes, I found Ginny in bed with Dean Thomas a few weeks before our wedding." Her grimace of anger made him feel so much better. He didn't need to hear her call Ginny names to know she would have done so. "Ron tried to be supportive but the years after the War was a bad time for the Weasleys. I don't think they ever got over losing Fred and to have someone supposedly hurt one of their own, especially their cherished only daughter."

"They closed ranks and turned on you," Lyra finished for him.

"Not so much the way you might think but I was definitely feeling the cool disregard and the unspoken revoking of my invitation to Sunday dinner."

"Well, I guess I am sorry then," she sighed. Her eyes widened at the disbelief she must have seen in his eyes. "Oh come on, I'm not blind. I know how you felt about the Ginger clan. I'm guessing Granger took their side as well."

"Not at all. Hermione is very much a logical fact based person. The fact that Ginny cheated couldn't be denied. She's married to Ron though, so I try not to put her in a position where she might have to choose between the Weasleys and me."

"Things seem to have worked out for you here in New York with Teddy," she said with the underlying question there for him to answer.

"I'm good. We both are. I was hurt for a while because I really did love her but it's been years. I'm over it."

"Good, I'd hate to see you pining over Weaselette who is definitely not worth the effort. Are you hungry yet?"

Harry stopped at the unexpected question. It was an offer for a truce accompanied by a reluctant smile. It reached inside him and started a slow burn. "You did invite me over for a meal."

"I had Nomi prepare something light for us. I was in the mood for Thai," She paused in remembrance, a carefully arched brow raised in query. "I hope you aren't still on that house-elf kick that you and Granger started back in Hogwarts. I don't abuse Nomi, she takes great care of me and she doesn't want me to free her and pay her a salary."

It didn't hurt to think of Dobby after all this time. In fact, he could focus on the more positive memories rather than the sad one. "Somehow I don't see you slaving away in the kitchen. Or scrubbing your toilet."

"Morgana forbid. I don't cook. I don't clean. But you're welcome to dinner if you don't mind the hands that prepared it."

"I would be a hypocrite considering Teddy and I have Gemma at home to keep us in line. Don't worry Lyra; I've come to understand that Dobby was unique. Part of what Hermione never understood was that if house-elves have a choice, then she doesn't have a right to make that choice for them if it doesn't measure up to her beliefs."

"Well," she looked slightly off balanced, as if she had prepared for an argument but now that he wasn't following her plans, didn't know how to proceed. "Yes, well. Dinner then."

"So exactly happened to Draco Malfoy?"

Dinner was served on the terrace, a mixture of modern steel and glass that he never would have associated with the pureblood witch. A trellised pergola bloomed with flora, tinting the evening air with scents of exotic flowers. The glass table held the various platters of their meal: a somtom salad consisting of shredded papaya, carrots, tomatoes, tossed with spicy lime dressing, topped with freshly ground peanuts, a bowl of Pad Thai rice noodles mixed with chicken, bean sprouts, eggs and tamarind sauce topped with ground peanuts they had shared, and their entre of Panang Curry, Chicken, green beans and sweet peppers served in panang curry and coconut milk topped with fresh basil and kiffir lime leaves.

He leaned back in the high-backed chair sipping from another cold bottle of lager, sated from the delicious meal, enjoying the view of the city as the sun set and the company.

Lyra was just as relaxed for the evening. Her hair was pinned in a loose knot atop her head with little strands slipping free around her face and she had changed into a strapless sundress that flowed around her body like a silken waterfall, hinting at the curves beneath. She took a moment to slip her feet free of the little sandals and curl up in her chair like a contented feline before she answered.

"In the most important ways, I am and will always be Draco Malfoy."

"So Draco Malfoy was a beautiful blonde woman who was destined to perform in Broadway musicals?"

"You think I'm beautiful?" She teased, her mouth tilting into a familiar smirk.

"Malfoy," he warned which obviously amused her.

"See, as I said. I am Draco Malfoy but I know what you mean by asking that question, so I'll stop giving you a hard time." She took a deep breath, settling in to what was going to be a long story. "After the war was a difficult time for the Malfoy family. Not trusted by the light side, no longer held in high esteem by pureblood society. Lucius was determined to regain that position. If he took on a few less than savory business agreements, it was nothing he was unfamiliar with."

As much as he wanted to be shocked by the revelation, Harry wasn't stupid. Lucius Malfoy might have been concerned about his family during the War but that didn't change his basic personality. Given the right opportunity the man would always look out for his own personal interests, regardless on what side of magic or law that placed him on.

"So I'm guessing he tried to deceive the wrong person?"

"Of course, isn't that how situations like this always come about?" She gestured with a negligent hand. "I was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass. Lovely witch. We would have made perfect little pureblood babies and went on to perpetuate the same prejudices that we were raised with. I escorted her to a dinner party, her invitation not my own. My father's enemy struck there."

"Potion?" His mind was already working the crime scene and the possible magical weapons that could bring about such a drastic change.

"Coating my champagne glass. Virtually undetectable and for someone who was already slightly inebriated, easily overlooked. Dark Arts, of course. Something black and forbidden, that is passed down amongst heads of families. It's a line ending curse. Very nasty, for as you might know, pureblood witches are unable to retain their family name after marriage, it's forbidden. And of course I was the Malfoy heir."

"Dirty business."

"Indeed. Lucius was furious of course. I'm sure if an Auror looked he could connect Lucius to the mysterious death that occurred that year but then again, no one really cared too much about the death of another pureblood right after the war."

"And there is no way of going back?"

"Lucius was of the opinion that altering the potion might possibly achieve the desired affect of regaining his heir."

"And you disagreed?"

"I had just spent twenty-four hours suffering through some of the worst agony of my life to be transformed into a woman. It is a horror I would not wish on anyone. I was not very eager to go through the experience again. Especially when there was no guarantee that it would be successful, or that I would even emerge from the incident alive. Lucius was understandably upset at my stubbornness."

"And you just accepted it? Being a woman?"

"No, idiot, I didn't just accept it," she snorted, rolling her eyes at him. "But I knew that if I remained in Britain, I never would. There were too many expectations that accompanied the name Malfoy. I believed that if I ever had the opportunity to live any kind of life, I needed to be somewhere that wasn't so heavily influenced by the Malfoy family."

"And you chose New York."

"Land of the free. And I needed that freedom, reveled in it. For the first time in my life, I didn't have to answer to anyone. "

"Freedom suits you."

_**StS**_

Lyra didn't know why it was so easy to talk to Harry. Maybe it was the calm way he looked at her with those eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes that made her want to curl up and whimper. He sat there sipping from his drink, in a black T-shirt stretched over a chest that was obviously as lean and chiseled as it seemed. Something about him reached deep inside and pulled hard on the desires best left unexplored.

"Does that answer your questions?" She set her fork down slowly and stopped chewing. After a careful swallow of beer, she looked up at him.

"For the time being. I do want to thank you for being so good to Teddy. He's been missing his grandmother and having a connection to her through you helped him get through her birthday this past weekend."

"You don't have to thank me for being nice to a little boy, Harry. Besides, Teddy is a good kid, plenty of potential. And it's nice to know that I do have some family left."

Just the thought of being virtually an orphan hurt. It was strange to find she now had something in common with Harry. Her parents might not be dead but for all intents and purposes, they had abandoned her and refused to acknowledge her existence all because she wouldn't bend to their wishes.

"I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"No, not at all." her voice was emotionless. No, the essence of Draco Malfoy still resided deep inside her no matter what mask she wore. The lessons taught at the knee of her father were adapted to fit her needs now but shielding herself from unwanted feelings was as natural as breathing. "You needed to know some of the truth and I was willing to give it to you."

"I hope we can get together again sometime. This was good. And I know Teddy would love to see you again."

"You're not getting rid of me anytime soon, Pothead. So you might as well get used to me invading your life now instead of years down the road."

"Oh, joy."


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Fate often laughs in the face of well made plans. No one should understand that better than Harry Potter as he's forced to face an uncomfortable truth: Plans change. People change. And love can be found in the most unexpected of places.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Situations, Gender Change, Minor Angst, Violence

Pairing: Harry/Draco (Lyra)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Five<strong>_

_**After school  
>Walking home<br>Fresh dirt under my fingernails  
>And I can smell hot asphalt<br>Cars screech to a halt to let me pass  
>And I cannot remember<br>What life was like through photographs  
>Trying to recreate images life gives us from our past<strong>_

_**And sometimes it's a sad song**_

_**-Maroon 5, The Sun**_

All he knew of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin were the stories his Grandmother and his father told him.

Gran would sit him down with one of her well loved photo albums and show him pictures of the people who were his parents. His clumsy mother who hated her name. Tonks, she would demand people call her. She was an Auror and a member of a secret organization called the Order of the Phoenix who helped to defeat the most evil dark wizard of all time and his Death Eaters. She was brave and loyal, a woman who dared love and marry a werewolf.

His Dad would tell him how Remus Lupin was a gentle earnest man, despite the shackles society placed upon him due to his monthly affliction. He was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Hogwarts had during those dark years. And though he had been afraid they would face the same persecution he had, Remus had loved his wife and son and fought for their freedom from the threat of tyranny and died for his beliefs.

Teddy knew they were his parents and that they loved him but all he had were pictures and stories. A picture didn't rush into his bed room when he screamed from a nightmare. A story couldn't come to one of his football games and cheer for him when he scored a goal. A memory wasn't able to scold him, like when he and Edison started the food fight in the school cafeteria or praise him when he brought home good grades.

Harry Potter was his father and Teddy had a feeling his other parents would understand.

So when Dad started bringing home the women he dated to meet him, Teddy figured it was his job to make sure they were good enough for his father. Because his Dad deserved the best.

Each had come to their condo, with their toothy smiles and gifts for him. Bribes. They would have dinner and pretend to be interested in him because that's what they believed they were supposed to do to impress his father. Some were very obvious. The others, it took a while for him to figure out if they could be trusted.

Either way, none of them went the distance.

Sometimes they blamed it on Dad's job. It was too dangerous. He worked odd hours. He was never around.

It was funny how his father always had time for him.

Some were only interested in his father when they realized he had money. Jason called them gold diggers. Teddy thought it was funny since galleons were made of real gold.

Or there were the groupies, another one of Jason's words, who wanted to date _The Harry Potter._ Those were the ones his father hated the most. Even more than the ones who were after his money.

Teddy honestly didn't know what category his father's last girlfriend fell into. He was just glad Audra was gone because he really didn't like her.

So the afternoon he met Lyra Malfoy for the first time, Teddy realized she was different. Maybe it was because it was his Gran's birthday, so that had to be a sign. Maybe Gran had sent her to them.

From the very beginning she was different than the other women. She poked at his father, argued with him. Loud furious shouting matches where he would storm away tugging at his hair and she would stalk over to a window to stare out until he came back. She laughed _at_ him and teased until he was forced to laugh as well. There were moments when he looked like he was ready to scream with frustration at Lyra and those reactions were usually reserved for when he was working on a case that was giving him problems.

Lyra didn't care about his fortune because she had one of her own. She drove an Aston Martin when she needed to navigate the muggle world and had a driver for her Bentley when she didn't want to be behind the wheel herself. The penthouse she had in So-Ho was for when she needed to be in the city but that wasn't her only home. Teddy remembered the afternoon they spent at her estate in Connecticut where he had stared for hours at what had to be the _greatest house ever_.

Dad sneered at the colorful peacocks that walked the front lawn, calling her Malfoy in a way that definitely wasn't nice. She had merely smirked and said something like at least they weren't albinos. When Teddy asked why anyone would ever want an albino peacock, they had stared at each other lips trembling with the need to smile and then laughter filled the air, a wonderful sound that told him whatever had passed between them was over and things were okay again.

Lyra didn't care about his father's job because she had a demanding career as well. The afternoons he occasionally spent at the theater with her, proved not only that his cousin was extremely talented but that she worked hard and was just as respected as his Dad.

She definitely didn't care about his reputation back in England but her eyes would grow sad and her face poignant if the war was ever mentioned. Those were the moments his father would lace their fingers together and pull her into a hug. He couldn't understand what they felt but he knew whenever he saw them together like that his heart would race really fast and it reminded him of how he felt when his Gran died.

The very best part was that Lyra didn't care about him because he was Harry's son. She took him on those crazy shopping trips for more clothes than he would ever wear before he grew out of them. She spoiled him with gifts, both magical and muggle, and would ignore Dad whenever he complained, merely sticking her tongue out at him. They went to museums and libraries and zoos and amusement parks even if his father had to work.

She told him stories about his Dad when they went to Hogwarts together. Admitting to being jealous of his flying abilities and how Dad was pants in potions.

Mostly Lyra spent time with him because she wanted to get to know Teddy Potter and that's what made him like her best.

"Isn't he cute?"

Teddy looked up at his cousin who had brought him to Everest's Magical Pets and Supplies so that he could buy some owl treats for his owl Phineas. She held a small dark brown crup in her arms, laughing as it licked at her chin and wagged its split tail furiously. One of its ears looked like something had taken a bite out of it; its fur was wild and in desperate need of a brushing and it had to be the runt of the litter.

"Yeah, it's okay." It was cute despite all those things but he wouldn't be caught dead calling anything cute. He was a boy for Merlin's sake. What was his cousin trying to do?

"I'm getting him. Rhea will adore him."

"What!" That monster Lyra treated like a puppy would probably squish the crup.

But she obviously wasn't paying him any attention as she was stalking up to the counter and ten minutes later they left the store with the owl treats he came to buy, and a new crup and various supplies that would probably spoil the beast rotten by the end of the week.

"We should get him a collar," Lyra said as they walked down the block. "Not one of those ugly ones though. Maybe something green, what do you think Teddy?"

Teddy watched as more than one head turned to stare at her but she just ignored them. He remembered how Dad would scowl at other men whenever they went out together and Teddy finally understood what had caused the anger. Didn't they know it was rude to gawk at people that way?

"I guess that's okay."

One of the braver idiots stopped directly in front of them, forcing Lyra to halt in her quest for the perfect collar for her new pet. "Good afternoon madam," he bowed low at the waist, grinning like a monkey.

Teddy had learned one thing about his cousin in the weeks they spent together. Lyra hated for people to accost her on the street. Those were her exact words. Another thing he loved about spending time with his cousin, he learned some great new words. He gave the idiot in the three piece suit thirty seconds before she took out her wand and hexed him.

"Good afternoon," she said politely in the coldest voice he had ever heard. The smile she wore while petting the crup was wiped away and replaced by a mask of frostiness. She straightened almost invisibly, her chin lifting so she could look down her nose at the man who dared impose himself on their time together.

"I was hoping to introduce myself." His voice was slimy, like he was putting on a front to impress Lyra but Teddy could tell it had the opposite affect.

"You presume to think I would wish to know who you are."

_'Oh, brrr,'_ Teddy thought to himself. _'Walk away now and you might be able to salvage your pride.'_

"Madam," he began again but was immediately interrupted by Lyra.

"Please remove yourself from my path, or I shall be forced to signal for an Auror to assist you."

"Something wrong here?"

Teddy turned to find his father and Jason almost across the street to them. Jason looked like he was seconds from cracking up while his father wand hand fisted like he was seconds from pulling it and the grim expression on his face that was normally reserved for work clearly said he wasn't amused.

His father wasn't as tall as the man who had stopped them but there was no mistaking the dangerous swell of magic that filled the air proving he was more than capable of dealing with the intruder if necessary. It wasn't often he had the chance to see this side of his father but Teddy imagined this was what he was like facing down dark wizards and criminals.

Instead of a suit like the other guy, he was dressed like he normally did for work, this time in a dark green shirt and blazer with dark jeans and his usual boots but he was no less imposing a figure. His Auror badge was pinned at his waist where he had pushed aside his blazer so it was visible for anyone to see.

"No sir," the guy immediately backed off, "Not at all. Have a pleasant day, madam."

Lyra said nothing but inclined her head in farewell, waiting until he was gone before swirling to face his father with a glare on her face that could have smelt metal. "Do you think I need you to rescue me from idiots on the street?"

All that ice was sparking fury now. Jason didn't help matters by laughing but he did try to pretend like he was coughing instead when two sets of eyes turned on him. That shared moment of anger was obviously too much for Lyra for she turned back to his Dad and poked him in the shoulder hard enough that he stumbled back a couple of steps.

"Next time before you jump in to play hero, Potter, you might want to assess the situation. I thought they taught that skill to all Aurors before allowing them on the streets."

"Ouch," Jason muttered, before quickly staring up at the sky as if he had said nothing.

"I am perfectly aware that you're capable of taking care of yourself." In all the anger Lyra was spitting, his father remained calm but looked more than a bit sheepish. "I overreacted. I'm sorry."

Lyra was too startled by the apology to offer any more objections. A second later she had recovered and her lips curved into a smug smile that had his father rolling his eyes in exasperation. "An apology? From Potter? I never thought I'd witness the day."

"Yeah, well, don't be a jerk about it, Malfoy."

Her low throaty chuckle even brought a smile to his father's face. "Oh no, I'm too busy savoring the moment."

"Where did you get the mutt?"

"Mutt?" Lyra sniffed; offended that Dad had insulted her new pet. "I'll have you know this lovely fellow is a pure bred crup. I found him today at Everest's. Isn't he adorable?" She held up the crup for inspection and it gave a high pitched bark that made his father's face soften before he reached up to scrub it behind the ears briefly.

"It looks like it went ten rounds with a kneazle and lost," Dad told her, giving a snicker of laughter at her appalled expression. "And what's with the fur?"

"I think he's beautiful. And his fur reminds me of someone I know." She paused, adjusting the crup in her arms, so that she could tap a perfectly manicured finger against her chin. "Hmm, so what do you think I should name him? Scarhead sounds like it would fit, don't you think? The ear. The hair. What do you think, Potter?"

"Cute, Lyra," Dad drawled but his mouth twitched with amusement at what was obviously a private joke between them.

"I certainly thought so. That's why I wanted him."

The two looked at each other for several seconds that probably could have gone on longer if Jason hadn't cleared his throat and nudged his father. "We should get back to head quarters, Harry."

"Right." He blinked slowly as if waking up. "I'll see you guys at home later on tonight. Don't order out, I'm cooking."

"Well, I'm certainly not," Lyra huffed as if his father should have known not to even suggest it.

"Don't get into any trouble you." Teddy grinned at the hand scrubbed affectionately across the top of his head.

"Okay Dad."

"That goes for you too, Lyra."

Dad surprised them both by leaning over to press a kiss to the side of her cheek. A pleased smile spread across Lyra's face, nothing like her usual ones as it wasn't a smirk or a grin but soft and girly and it made her face almost glow.

Yeah, Gran had definitely brought them Lyra.


End file.
